Newlyweds
by emospritelet
Summary: Rumple and Belle's wedding night, with a little angst, lots of fluffy smut, and Hook making Moe French extremely uncomfortable.


**A/N: now that our babies are married, and we know that there's going to be some serious angst coming their way next season, I thought a one-shot would tide me over for a while. Fluffy, smutty goodness. Enjoy!**

* * *

Belle pulled out of the kiss that had sealed their vows, a wide smile of satisfaction spreading across her face as Rumplestiltskin pressed his forehead to hers. His answering smile warmed her down to her toes.

"Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Gold." Archie's voice cut through the moment, and Belle reluctantly took a step back and turned to hug her father, who clung to her and almost crushed her with the strength of his arms.

"You look beautiful, darling," he said softly, and Belle let out a fairly breathless giggle as she breathed in his familiar, comforting scent of cologne.

"Thank you, Papa," she said, squeezing him back. "I'm happy."

He kissed the top of her head tenderly, and she pulled away to hug Archie, who had just finished shaking Rumple's hand.

"How about a drink at Granny's?" asked Archie, looking from one to the other. "I think you two ought to celebrate, don't you?"

Rumple and Belle shared a glance, a quick look of understanding.

"I think we'll be going home," he said quietly, and Belle's heart fluttered with sudden excitement. Home. _Their _home. Admittedly, she had spent a brief time with him there when Regina's curse was broken, and had been living there since he went to Neverland, but now it was official. It was _theirs._ Hers. _He _was hers. Her husband. She wondered when she would stop grinning like a loon.

"Home it is," she said happily.

The drive back into town was quiet, Belle fidgeting a little nervously with the small bouquet of flowers in her lap with one hand, the other resting lightly on his thigh so that she could feel the warmth of his skin. When the car pulled up outside the pink house (_salmon_, she reminded herself, with an inward chuckle) Rumple got out of the car and opened her door, giving her his hand to help her up and promptly pulling her into an embrace. He pressed soft lips to hers and she responded with enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her hand in his soft hair as the kiss made her rise up on her toes.

Eventually, she settled back on her heels with a sigh, and he nuzzled her neck affectionately.

"The private and reserved Mr Gold, kissing in the street," she said contentedly. "Whatever next?"

"Why don't we go inside and find out?" he said quietly, his voice a low rumble in his chest, vibrating pleasantly though her and making her shiver in anticipation. She threaded her fingers through his and fell into step beside him as he approached the house, the keys in his hand jingling as he reached to unlock the door.

"Well," he said softly. "Here we are." His smile turned suddenly wicked, and Belle shrieked as he swept her up in his arms. Her grip tightened around his neck as she giggled, and he carried her inside, knocking off one of her shoes in the process and almost tripping over it. He stumbled, and Belle let out a yelp, squeezing her eyes shut and preparing to hit the floor, but then he righted himself, and they both started laughing. He let her down carefully, and she kicked off the other shoe.

"That was less graceful than I intended," he remarked.

"I must be rubbing off on you," she said teasingly, and blushed as his eyebrows flicked at her suggestively, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"We can move onto that," he said, and she shoved him playfully.

He locked the door behind them, casting a spell as he did so. It would be just his luck if, now that he finally had her, something happened to pull him from his marital bed before he had actually had the chance to be with his wife. With the spell in place, Charming and the others could knock to their hearts' content without either of the Golds hearing a damn thing. He wondered if he should make it permanent.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, turning back to Belle as she was removing her hat, and she shook her head.

"Not for food," she clarified, with a little smile that made him swallow.

"Perhaps I was wrong to bring you straight home," he said uncertainly. "Did you want to go for a drink?"

"No," she said gently. "I want my husband. Our wedding was perfect. It was you, and it was me. The rest of Storybrooke can look after itself for the evening."

He grunted. "You do realise Ruby's going to kill you, don't you?" he said wryly, and Belle chuckled.

"Yeah, no doubt she'd have planned a big bachelorette party with strippers, or something." She shuddered. "I prefer our way."

"Strippers?" he said weakly. "In Storybrooke? Who on earth would she have gotten? The dwarfs?"

"Oh, gods, Rumple!" Belle burst out laughing, blushing. "Thanks. Leroy in skimpy underwear is just the image I need in my head on our wedding night."

"Well, whatever works for you," he said, with a smirk, and she leant in for another kiss, still giggling a little.

"Let's go upstairs," she whispered, and he kissed her again, more urgently.

She placed her bouquet on the hall table before turning back to him and shrugging off her coat. His mouth went slack with desire as her sheer vintage dress was exposed, the lace panels at once hiding everything and nothing, her white underwear clearly visible through it. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"Well, I can certainly see the reason for the coat," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "You would have given Doctor Hopper a coronary if you'd taken it off. Not to mention your father."

"Do you like it?" she asked shyly, turning this way and that so he could admire her slender form and the hints of her creamy skin exposed by the lace. His eyes roved over her, the irises darkening with desire. A faint blush rose in her cheeks at the intensity of his gaze. There had been a different look in his eyes since his return; the shadows caused by his grief for Bae, and something else. Something darker. They had not talked about his year of captivity, nor about what Zelena had made him do. She had touched on the subject gently the night before, when he had woken with a shout, shaking with nightmares. He had clung to her fiercely, tears pouring down his face as he repeated over and over that his Belle was alive, that he hadn't killed her, that she was safe. Belle's throat had tightened at the pain and terror in his voice, and could only imagine what he had been through when they were apart. He had not wanted to discuss it, and she had let it go, but she thought about getting him to speak to Archie, when he was ready. It was not a conversation for their wedding night, to be sure, but the sorrow in his eyes had made her heart clench. She looked up at him as she turned, noticing with amusement that the only look in his eyes at that moment was one of lust.

"I would be happy if you wore nothing but this every time we're alone," he purred, and she giggled.

"Can I add rubber gloves for when I'm cleaning?" she asked innocently, and he put his hands on her hips, pulling her closer.

"Sweetheart, there are far more enjoyable activities I would like you to do in that dress," he breathed, and she smiled up at him demurely.

"Then why don't you take me upstairs and show me?"

* * *

Moe pulled up outside Granny's in his car, and he and Archie got out, stretching in the cool night air. Moe wiped his forehead tiredly, and Archie gave him an understanding look.

"Hard to let 'em go, huh?" he said and Moe nodded, worry etched on his broad face.

"I know she's happy," he admitted. "That's all I ever wanted for her. It's just…" He waved a dismissive hand, pulling a face. "Ah, forget it! She's a grown woman. It's been a long time since I had to make decisions for her." He smiled, suddenly wistful. "And even when I did, she'd make up her own mind more often than not."

Archie smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.

"How about a drink?" he suggested, and Moe agreed readily.

The majority of the revellers were still inside Granny's, the coronation party in full swing. Mary Margaret appeared to be absent, but David was there, and Archie surmised that she was feeding or changing the young Prince Neal. A group consisting of several of the dwarfs, Emma, Hook and Ruby was engaged in a raucous conversation about Hook and Emma's time in the Enchanted Forest.

"So, that's seriously what Gold looked like?" Emma was saying. "I thought my jaw was gonna hit the floor when he appeared like that. Can you imagine Gold in leather?" She shook her head.

"Where is Gold, anyway?" asked Ruby, looking around. "Where's Belle? I didn't see them leave."

"Well, if they're both gone, I for one ain't lookin' for 'em," said Leroy, curling his lip. "No way I wanna interrupt whatever's going on there."

"That's probably a good idea," put in Archie. "They just got married, I doubt they'd appreciate being disturbed."

There was a moment of silence, accompanied by looks of general astonishment. Moe took the opportunity to slide himself onto a seat at the bar and mop his forehead with a paper napkin, uncomfortably warm in his suit.

"Married?" said Leroy incredulously. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," nodded Archie. "I officiated."

Ruby dug her phone from her pocket with a scowl. "I am gonna _kill _her! Why didn't she tell us? I'm ringing her right now."

"Seriously, Ruby?" said Emma flatly. "It's her wedding night, remember? I'm guessing she has more important things to do than listen to you whine about how you wanted to book strippers for her bachelorette party."

"And to think I would have offered my services," said Hook, looking regretful as Emma snorted in amusement.

Ruby hesitated. "Then I'll be sending a strongly-worded text," she muttered.

"So, he finally made an honest woman of her, huh?" remarked Granny, from behind the bar. She poured a whisky and set it in front of Moe. "On the house, Moe. Congratulations. How's it feel to have her leave the nest?"

"Oh, you know," said Moe uncomfortably, aware of everyone's eyes on him. "She'll always be my little girl."

"I hear you, buddy," said David, tipping Emma a wink as he took a swig of his beer.

Hook slapped Moe on the back, making him choke on his whisky. "Down the hatch, mate," he said cheerfully. "I'll get you another one." He turned to Granny with a winning smile. "Make it a double, love."

Granny gave him a very level look, at which Hook wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, but she poured an extra-large measure and set it before Moe as he drained the first glass.

"Cheers, mate," said Moe appreciatively. "You trying to get me drunk?"

"Nope," said Hook brightly. "I'm trying to help you forget that the Dark One's probably shagging your daughter as we speak."

_"__Killian!"_ stormed Emma furiously, as Moe paled visibly.

"See?" Hook pushed the drink at him, and looked around at the disapproving faces. "Oh, come on! Like you weren't all thinking exactly the same thing!"

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't," remarked Emma. "Imagining the Dark One having sex means imagining Gold naked, and neither is an image I want in my head right now, thanks."

Hook's expression turned suddenly thoughtful as he twisted his glass of rum between his fingers.

"I bet he's into weird stuff…" he began, and yelped as Emma hurriedly grabbed his arm and dragged him away from Moe, who was staring wide-eyed into his whisky.

"Let me get you another," said Granny kindly.

* * *

When Belle entered the bedroom, she gasped in delight. Candles stood on every surface, bathing the room in a soft glow, and vases full of roses filled the air with their rich perfume. Rumple watched her make her way around the room, bending to sniff the flowers or feel their velvet petals as she went. Her skin had a creamy, luminous quality in the candlelight, reminding him of their time together in the Dark Castle, when candlelight was all they had. For the thousandth time he wished he had believed her when she professed her love for him. He could have found a way around the curse, allowing him to kiss her. They could have been married there. Not that anyone would have attended _that_ wedding, either.

He frowned slightly as unwelcome memories invaded. While imprisoned in the Enchanted Forest, one of Zelena's initial tortures was to send him supposed visions of Belle in a mirror, letting him see her with another man, tall and handsome, writhing in the stranger's arms and gasping in pleasure. He had known they were lies, created by the witch, and Zelena soon tired of the game when she saw he didn't believe them. That had not stopped him feeling that that was what Belle deserved, someone young and whole. Not old and broken. So much of him was broken, now, after Bae. After Zelena. The witch had moved onto other tortures, then. He looked at the floor, trying to rid his mind of the dark thoughts, angry at himself for letting them in when this beautiful creature made of love and light had just agreed to be his.

"I'm guessing Papa had a hand in this," she said happily, turning to him with a grin on her face, and he shrugged.

"I may have bought up all the roses in his shop," he admitted. "I take it you approve?"

Her answering hug made him rock back on his heels, and he laughed as his arms went around her.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, and he pulled back a little, cupping her face with his hands and shaking his head gently.

"No," he said softly, his voice breaking a little. "It pales in comparison to you, sweetheart."

She bit her lip, looking at him anxiously. "What is it?"

He hesitated, but shook his head. He couldn't. Not now. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to talk to her about the year they spent apart. About what had been done to him. Would she understand, if she knew? Would she forgive him for the dagger? His lip trembled slightly as she ran a soft hand over his hair, and he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. She was all goodness and strength and gentleness, everything he wanted to be. Everything he couldn't be. Perhaps it would be enough for both of them. The gods alone knew what _she_ thought she was getting from the deal, because he hadn't the faintest idea. Himself. He could give her himself. Not the dagger, of course, but whatever was in him that might be thought of as good, however small that was. All the love he possessed.

He lowered his mouth, feeling her catch her breath as his lips pressed against hers, his fingers sliding into her hair and causing her to make a low noise of enjoyment in the base of her throat. She reached up to stroke his hair, and he pulled her a little closer, his tongue parting her lips and gently probing. Her mouth opened further as she gasped, and she pressed herself against him, so that he could feel the soft mounds of her breasts against his chest. He devoured her, tasting her sweetness, his hands cradling her head before sliding gently down over her shoulders to rest at her waist. The kiss softened, becoming lighter, until he was merely pulling at her lips with his, and he left her mouth and placed damp kisses down her neck, drawing a small moan from her. He grinned as his mouth slid up to her ear and tugged at the lobe.

"I've missed you," she whispered, and it made him want to cry.

"I missed you, sweetheart," he breathed. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Her grip tightened on him, and he felt her smile.

"I _knew _I'd see you again," she said contentedly.

He kissed her, his lips pushing hers apart so that he could taste her, nimble fingers pulling the pins from her hair so that it cascaded down over her shoulders in dark, curling waves. The scent of her perfume wafted from it, fogging his brain and making him pull her harder against him. He reached down and began to slowly unbutton her, pulling the dress apart as he went lower, revealing the creamy swell of her breasts in the white lace bra. Belle gasped, letting her head roll back as he kissed down her neck and over her chest, his mouth pulling at her nipple through the lace. She pushed her fingers through his hair eagerly, arching into him as he suckled her.

"Take off the dress," she whispered, and he smiled, unbuttoning it fully and pushing it down her arms so that it pooled on the floor by her feet. He straightened up, his kiss more urgent, his tongue stroking against hers as he ran his hands down over her rear.

"You're still dressed," she gasped, tugging at his tie, and he chuckled, pulling it off and unfastening his cufflinks. He watched her get onto the bed, the covers pulled back and her stocking-clad legs dangling over the side. He pulled off his shirt, draping it over the back of the chair, and grinned as she held out her arms to him, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall to the floor.

"Come to bed," she said eagerly, and he obeyed, pushing her backwards onto the pillows as he kissed her. The stockings were fiddly to unfasten, but he managed to slide them down her long, pale legs and feel the smoothness of her skin. The bra was even more awkward, particularly when he didn't want to stop kissing her, and eventually she had to reach behind herself to undo the wretched thing and throw it to the floor. His underwear presented no problems whatsoever, and he had an idle thought about the complexity of women's garments being part of a general conspiracy to drive men insane.

She was soon lying beneath him, wearing nothing but a scrap of lace that wouldn't have been sufficient to make a handkerchief back in the Enchanted Forest. At least that looked easy to remove. He smiled down at her, noting that a faint blush was staining her cheeks.

"My beautiful Belle," he breathed, his fingers sliding into her curls and stroking her face gently as he kissed her. She responded, her body pressing up against his, and he kissed down her neck to her chest, sliding a little further down the bed. She gasped as he lowered his mouth to her nipple, sucking it in and gently grazing it with his tongue as his hands cupped her breasts. Belle squirmed with pleasure, making a contented sound into his mouth, and he groaned, hardening against her and making her smile. He slipped a hand beneath the lace of her underwear and between her legs, gently stroking her soft folds, and let out a rumbling gasp at the wetness he found there. Belle stiffened, sighing heavily as his finger slipped into her, his thumb gently circling the tiny bud of nerves at the top. She moaned softly as his finger probed inside her.

"Rumple…" she breathed, and he felt himself twitch against her, hard against her thigh. He desperately wanted to take her, but he also wanted her to find the pleasure he knew he would find, and so he kissed his way down her belly, tugging her underwear down her legs and throwing it away. He took a moment to gaze down at her, at the moist pink cleft between her legs, darker than the milky flesh of her thighs, and he moved slowly down to kneel between her legs, his hands sliding up between her thighs and pushing them apart. Belle's strangled gasp at the feel of his hot breath on her sex made him grin. She smelt incredible, of musk and raspberries and _Belle_, and he gently swept his tongue inside her folds, tasting her sweet nectar.

Belle arched up off the bed with a cry at his first touch, her hands fisting in his hair, and he grinned again and settled down to pleasure her, his tongue probing and circling and then licking in a slow, steady rhythm that made her pant and writhe. He could feel the bliss rising through her in a wave, and he slid a finger inside her, increasing his pace slightly as her body stiffened and her cries grew louder. A second finger joined the first, hooking around to press inside her, and Belle screamed as she reached her peak, crying out his name as she came. A rush of sweet fluid made him groan in appreciation, and he pushed his tongue deep into her, tasting her ecstasy.

"Please, my love," she whispered throatily, tugging at his hair. "Want you. Now."

Barely able to believe that she was real, that _this _was real, he kissed his way back up her body, lying snugly between her thighs so that he was firmly pressed against her core. He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, smiling as she moaned and wriggled, trying to get him inside her.

"Patience, my sweet," he whispered, and she stilled obediently, kissing him enthusiastically. He reached down between them and lined them up, pushing himself up on his elbows so that he could gaze down at her. Belle bit her lip, her face glowing with love and bliss, her blue eyes shining at him as she touched his cheek. He shook his head slightly, disbelievingly.

"I can't believe you're really here," he whispered. "I don't deserve this, Belle. I don't deserve _you_."

Belle gave him a fond, if slightly stern, look, and stroked his hair back from his face.

"None of that, now," she whispered. "I love you." She smiled up at him, her fingers soothing in his hair, on his face. "I'm yours," she said gently. "And we've waited too long for this. Make love to me, Rumple."

He stroked her cheek briefly, reverently, his smile hesitant, then he lowered his mouth to hers. His lips pressed gently against her, the kiss growing harder, and he pushed his way slowly inside her as his tongue entered her mouth, making Belle moan in pleasure. The feel of her around him was incredible, hot and wet and so _fucking _tight, and he wanted nothing more than to pound into her until he was spent and shaking. He began to move slowly, his hips turning in small circles against her as he thrust in and out of her, the sensations making him see stars. He kissed down her neck and sank his teeth into her, making her moan loudly before trailing his lips up to her ear.

"You feel like silk, my Belle," he growled, hearing her gasp. "Like silk and velvet. You feel every bit as good as you taste, my love."

She moaned something unintelligible, and he slid his hands to the back of her knees, pulling her legs up so that he could push deeper into her. Belle threw her head back with a cry at the change of position, as he hit her just right, the angle of his thrusts causing a delicious friction against her. He felt her wrap her legs around his back, crossing them at the ankles, and he increased his pace as he felt her building again, thanking every deity that had ever existed for this moment, for the joy of being buried within her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her messily, his thumb sliding into her mouth and probing her soft wet tongue, and she sucked it hard, making him groan, his eyes widening in astonishment.

"Gods, Belle!" he gasped, and she smiled up at him, her eyes dark with lust, all smooth pale skin and fragrant dark curls, and positively the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his life. He put new energy into his movements, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in again, and Belle's eyes seemed to roll back in her head. She gasped, lifting her hips slightly to meet him, and her fingers tightened on his shoulder blades. He could feel her tensing, the pleasure building within her once more, and he tried desperately to think of something unpalatable to make himself last long enough for her to come again. Belle, however, did not play fair. She lowered her mouth to his nipple, sucking it and gently scoring it with her teeth, before looking up at him through hooded eyes.

"Come for me," she whispered, and he cried out as his world exploded, pounding into her, all finesse gone as he came inside her in spurts that never seemed to end. Dimly, he was aware of her clenching around him and her own cries loud in his ear, her nails raking down his spine. Well, at least that was something. He pushed his head into the hollow between her neck and shoulder, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, and she stroked his hair gently as he rested.

"If this is what being married's like, I don't know why more people don't do it," she said drowsily, and he chuckled wearily.

"Was that satisfactory, Mrs Gold?" he asked, pushing himself up on his elbows, and she murmured happily and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"That was incredible," she said happily. "Can we do that every day?"

"Twice, if you like," he offered, and she giggled.

"I was half-expecting Charming to knock on the door and tell us there was an emergency," she said, amused, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You were thinking about Charming on our wedding night?"

"Not when we started!" she objected. "Only this evening, on the way back to the house. I couldn't think about _anything _when we started." Her smile turned soft. "Only you, and how much I love you."

He kissed her again, rolling onto his side and pulling her with him so that they could wrap their arms around one another in the antique bed, warm and sated and happy. He wanted to remember this moment forever, to keep it safe for the trouble that was to come. Perhaps it could help him stay sane.

* * *

**A/N: poor Rumple. I'm so glad he got his girl, and I hope the writers let him keep her. After the angst, of course. **

**Hope you enjoyed :)**


End file.
